


Falling for you

by Shihachii



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Mutual Pining, This is set halfway through season 1 after Amanda is threatened by Friedkin, they like each other but are too proud to admit it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 14:25:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14956343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shihachii/pseuds/Shihachii
Summary: Amanda gets fighting lessons after being grabbed by Friedkin and freaking out. Martin is a lovesick idiot and is forced to spar  with her.





	Falling for you

**Author's Note:**

> For GuenVanHelsing!! ILY HEIDI

“You need to learn how to fight.” 

She jumped at the voice, not having expected anyone else to be around. Amanda scowled up at Martin, ash and grime streaking her pale face. “I know how to fight.” Her tone was grudging but he knew she was shaken by the day’s events. It wasn’t a nice feeling, having been grabbed by a Blackwing operative and having a gun pointed at your head. That kind of experience made you jumpy and feel icky all over for days on end. 

Martin knew she could fight, knew from the way she smashed things with ease that she had quite a bit of strength in that small frame of hers. But she needed to be able to protect herself more. He felt a burning in his stomach as he recalled the sight of her, held hostage by that idiotic, pathetic excuse for a soldier. More than anything, he wanted to rip out that soldier’s throat and worse, for causing the spike of panic and fear in Amanda, for frightening her so much. His jaw clenched. 

“I know you can. But you need to be able to do more.” He sat beside her, watching her intently. Feeling flushed at the intense stare, she swigged some of her beer and tried to ignore him. He didn’t want to, but he knew that bringing up what happened would be most effective. 

“What happens if someone grabs you again? Puts a gun to your head?” Her face contorted, her jaw squaring as she turned to face him. Eyes blazing, she stuck out her chin in a show of stubborn defiance. “I – I’ll fight them.” He raised an eyebrow. “Good, so we’ll teach you how to do it better.” Even though she felt played by him, she had to admit he had a point. If they were going to be pursued by more Blackwing soldiers, then she really needed to brush up on her skills. 

Standing up, she brushed her clothes of dirt. “Okay. What do I need to do?” 

This whole exchange was why she was currently held in a headlock by Gripps, whilst Cross was instructing her. Vogel was flailing, unable to contain his energy as he watched them wrestle. Martin was sitting back, watching the scene, amusement pulling at his lips. 

“Use your elbows! No, your other elbows!” She managed to get a jab in Gripps’ ribs and he released her, groaning and clutching his side. “Shit - sorry Gripps!” Full of remorse and spouting apologies, she reached for him. In less than a second, his expression changed from wounded puppy to smug victor. Smirking, Gripps picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. 

“Never let your guard down! That’s rule number one!” Cross yelled helpfully, shoving Vogel who was clambering all over him. Vogel fell, sprawling on the ground and making a load of racket, then he started climbing up on Martin instead. “You know, you’re really getting too big for this.” Martin commented wryly as Vogel draped himself over his broad shoulders, squirming and trying to get comfortable. 

Cross was busy showing Amanda how to get optimal use of her elbows. He demonstrated a backwards jab slowly, correcting her form when she copied him. “Yeah, now do it harder.” Gripps nodded critically and stood behind her, to let her feel exactly where to jab. Moving her arm sharply, she caught Gripps hard in the gut and he doubled over. Wary, she waited for him to reveal his surprise plot but when he continued groaning, she knew he wasn’t faking. 

“Gripps!” She rubbed his back, Cross asking if he was alright. Vogel was laughing loudly, bouncing on Martin, who was echoing his laughter. “Seems our drummer has more strength than she realises.” Cross glanced up at him and they locked eyes. A wicked grin spread over Cross’s face and Martin felt his stomach sink. “Well, now Gripps is down, we need a new person to play the pervert attacker in this self-defence class.” Martin knew what was coming. “Come over here Martin,” Cross’s smile was hurting his cheeks now, it was so wide, “and let’s see how you fare against our girl?” 

It was no secret that Martin had feelings for Amanda, all of them being so attuned to emotions, so it was rather obvious. When Amanda had been grabbed, they’d all been worried and furious, but none more than Martin who was straight-up murderous. 

Why Cross decided to play Cupid now, Martin had no idea, but he got up as instructed. It would be really suspicious for him to refuse and Amanda was already looking at him oddly, probably wondering why he was taking so long. Cross could smell how nervous she was, how flustered at the prospect of wrestling Martin but she tried to hide it by acting cool. He already knew she liked Martin, it was more than obvious to everyone – except for the mohawked dunderhead himself.

He was going to have some fun with the two of them today. Of course Gripps was in on it, in fact they’d even taken bets on how long it would take for them to get together. Cross wasn’t above cheating to push the two idiots together. 

Gripps nursed his stomach, not being able to suppress the smile as he watched them. As usual, Vogel hadn’t a clue what was going on or why they were grinning so widely – had he missed a joke or something? 

“Now, in this scenario, the attacker would come from behind.” Martin’s nostrils flared. He stared at Cross, whose smug grin was still spread wide over his lips. Amanda glanced up at him and then stepped in front of him. When he moved closer to her, she could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Good god, how much more enticing could his smell be? She inhaled deeply despite herself, trying hard to relax her body and not seem like she was internally combusting from his close proximity. 

“And his arm is around you.” Martin mouthed ‘fuck you’ at Cross, but did as he was told, his arm wrapping round her body. He was careful to avoid her chest. Despite this, his bare arm felt on fire as it pressed against her softness, which her jacket didn’t hide at all. He swallowed hard and tried to get his mind out of the gutter. Amanda was in a similar situation, trying not to focus on the way his hard muscles pressed against her back. She could feel his breath on her exposed neck and shivered hard. 

“Cold, drummer?” His voice was low, far too close to her ear. Vibrations ran through his chest and it was pressed up against her, she felt the rumble go through her whole body. Fuck, she thought, fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m in this way too deep. The spike in embarrassment didn’t go unnoticed by the others, who were smirking hard. It was hilarious seeing them flail around each other in this way, when it was all too obvious they were head-over-heels for each other. 

Amanda focused back on Cross, after all this was meant to help her fight and she’d be stupid to not try to learn something. 

“What you wanna do now is dig your heels into the floor.” Amanda concentrated on the task at hand, but Martin wasn’t at all. He was too focused on her, the soft brush of her hair against his face, the oddly fragrant smell emanating from her skin and as such didn’t see what was coming. “Grab his arm.” Relishing the feeling of her small, warm palms gripping his forearm, he bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from making any weird noises that would forever paint him as a pervert in her eyes. “Now pull his arm and lean forward really quickly, taking him over your shoulder.” 

“Wait wha- “ 

Amanda used all her weight to throw him forward, over her shoulder and smacking hard against the floor. She looked shocked that she’d managed to do it so easily and then her face contorted in rage. As Martin lay there on the ground, flat on his back, he watched her storm towards him, hair flying around her. God, she was amazing. “Martin, if you’re not going to take this seriously, then I’d rather have Vogel as my partner.” She crossed her arms, her eyebrows almost meeting in the middle as she scowled. He frowned, sitting up and brushing dirt off his head. “What? I have no idea what – “ 

“You didn’t fight back on purpose.” She jabbed a finger in his chest, looking defiant and furious. “You think I let you win?” Gripps and Cross rolled their eyes at each other. The two lovesick idiots were too stubborn to admit they’d been so focused on the other. They groaned inwardly, because they knew Martin never backed down from a fight, especially when it came to saving face in front of the drummer he liked. 

“If you’re not taking this seriously then-“ He grabbed her arm and looked at her from over his glasses. His voice was low again, almost a growl and he leant close to her. She shivered involuntarily, despite her anger. “You want serious? I’ll give you serious.” An odd look was in his eyes, something that made her feel like prey. Out of nerves, she chewed at her bottom lip and the action didn’t go unnoticed. His eyes went dark as they dipped down to watch her mouth, deliberately trailing back up her eyes. His fury at being accused of half-assing the lesson was taking the upper hand, suppressing his flustered embarrassment around her. He watched her lips move and heard her defiant “That’s all I want.” 

His lips curled despite himself.

 

At the end of the day, Amanda was sweating hard, covered in dust from where she’d been wrestled to the ground. Her back ached from where Martin had sat on her to subdue her flailing limbs. Her throat was sore from all the swearing she’d done at him and her pride had been more than just bruised. Martin didn’t look too worse for wear – he had dirt smeared on his cheek and his mohawk was floppier than usual, but he had a shit-eating grin over his face. 

“Again!” Amanda demanded, though the slow way she got to her feet, wincing as she did so, showed that she wasn’t up to any more practice today. “Resting is also important,” Cross informed them, from the seat he’d taken about halfway through their sparring session. Not listening, Amanda threw a punch at Martin’s stomach which he easily caught. They were both ignoring the other, not needing Cross’s instructions. After the first ten minutes, the fighting had been easy as breathing, even if she kept losing. Vogel had gotten bored after a minute of watching them and decided to spar with the air. His shouts and insults of his imaginary opponent didn’t even distract Martin and Amanda, who were sending kicks and punches flying at each other. 

“Getting tired yet, drummer?” Martin taunted, blocking a punch and sweeping her legs out from underneath her. With an ‘OOF’ she landed hard on her backside and glared up at him. Even with her furious glare at him, he couldn’t help thinking that she really did look like an angel. He’d offered his hand to her before he’d thought about it, his desire to help her and see her safe and sound rearing its head again. 

“Like hell.” His mouth curled in a smile and she took his hand. He pulled her up hard, miscalculating how heavy she was and causing her to fall against him. He leant back to accommodate her weight, not being able to stop himself from smiling wider. She pressed against him and cursed. Her legs felt like lead. 

“Fuck,” she mumbled, trying not to think about Martin’s chest even as she was pressing her face against it. Heat blazed from her cheeks as she felt his hands on her, keeping her steady. “Maybe it’s time for a break yeah?” He took a step back and let go of her hand, his smell and bodyheat now missed by Amanda. So tired that she didn’t have full control over her face, it allowed him to see a flash of something strange over her face. Her emotions, before full of anger and frustration at losing, now turned into different territory. He could smell it coming off her. 

Spiced, warm, uncomfortable – she felt embarrassed. Vogel snickered and was about to call out to her before Cross stopped him. “I’ll beat you next time.” She sniffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder and striding past him – trying her best to act unruffled and aloof. His side tingling where she brushed past him, he turned his head to see her walking to the van and knew he wasn’t finished with her yet by a long shot. Stepping in her footsteps, he easily caught up to her with his long strides. Just as she reached up to slide the van door open, he pressed a hand against it abruptly to stop the motion. Having caught her by surprise, he watched her whirl around and go bright red as she realised just how little space there was between them. He loomed over her, his arms caging her in against the van. His arm was stretched to rest against the van door and he leant closer, the height difference making him stoop slightly. “Rule number 38, drummer. Never turn your back on your opponent until you’re sure the fight is over.” 

Angling his face down, he gazed at her over the top of his glasses. Her dark brown eyes were round in surprise, her cheeks clearly flushed against the pallor of her face. It was the perfect position to tease her more and he couldn’t resist the urge to mess with her just a bit more. At the same time, it was a way of showing her what he wanted to do to her, if he was given a chance. Smirking, he chomped his teeth down together, biting on air and baring them for her. Her sharp intake of breath was more than a prize for him, so he backed down, grinning widely as she turned in a whirl of hair, drawing the door open to escape and slamming it closed behind her. 

Gripps voice came from the chairs, where he and Cross had been sitting to witness Martin fail spectacularly at flirting (or had he?). “You really shouldn’t tease her like that, you know.” Martin turned and walked towards them, shrugging. “She got me all-“ 

“Riled up?”  
“Hot and bothered?” 

“Horny?” piped up Vogel. Martin shoved the younger man, who went flying and flailed, kicking up dust. The laughter from the three men reassured Martin, who felt heat creep up his collar. He hadn’t been aware of just how obvious his feelings were to the rest of them. He’d hoped that he was keeping cool and giving no reason for them to suspect but clearly, they had read him like a grocery store receipt i.e. scrutinising it to check for any faults. 

“Shut up,” Martin sat between Cross and Gripps, landing heavily on the seat and grabbed the beer Cross was drinking. “It’s okay.” Gripps told him, beaming widely. “We won’t breathe a word.” Cross said, stealing back his can of beer before Martin could chug the whole thing. Foam splattered down Martin’s chin as it was snatched out of his hand. All three of them looked at Vogel – the only one likely to not be able to keep his mouth shut. He laughed loudly. “I might tell her!” And with those words, he took off in the direction of the van. Launching himself out of the seat, Martin managed to grab Vogel and wrestle him to the ground. They screamed and laughed, thoroughly covered in dirt by the time Vogel promised he’d do his best not to tell her. 

Amanda heard the yelling and laughter outside, too wrapped up in her own thoughts to wonder why. Her heart was still pounding in her chest – almost as fast as it got during her attacks. “The fuck is wrong with me?” She mumbled, rooting around the van for beers – there was always tons of stuff littered on the floor. Finding one and cracking it open in the darkness of the van, she made a face at the lukewarm contents and then rested her head against the wall. 

It was undeniable that she felt something for Martin. His smirks made her stomach twist and the way he braced his arm against her chair when he talked the rowdies in the back made her whole body heat up. The way they had fought and wrestled had made her feel light-headed. The feel of his strong, warm body against hers, the way it felt like he fit against her just right. That small smile he wore when he watched Cross and Vogel play or when Gripps told crappy jokes that made all of them groan and snort. She closed her eyes and rested the cold metal can against her hot face.  
“Well fuck. What do I do now?”


End file.
